Her Favourite Taichou
by mellmel
Summary: People always ask Matsumoto how she handles her taichou. But she keeps his best parts secret.


**Her Favourite Taichou**

 _a short Hitsugaya/Matsumoto drabble_

Bleach © Kubo Tite

Her Favourite Taichou © mellmel

* * *

 _"What do you mean, a group of Hollows? Hollows don't work in groups."_

 _"But taichou, that's exactly it, intel reported that a whole group of them appeared! Around seven to ten, they're not so certain, everything's in a bit of a mess now—"_

 _"Matsumoto, what_ do _we know?"_

 _"They appeared in the woods of District 82 suddenly. No one knows how they got there. They appear to be mid- to high-level Hollows, and had killed a few villagers before the patrol team arrived."_

 _"...And?"_

 _"Ah...at the time I received the report, half of the patrol team had been...taken down."_

 _"...I see."_

* * *

Hands convulsed into fists, seeking a sword hilt that wasn't there. The sheets clung to her back as she tossed in bed, willing herself to awaken. This was a dream. She _knew_ it was a dream. She only had to wake up...wake up... _wake up goddamit!_

* * *

 _"Goddamit!" Hagakure, the patrol leader had screamed at the Healer. "Take it back! They're not—they're not—you can't be serious...you can't be..." He fell to his knees before the bodies of his comrades. There were too many for this to be possible. He whispered, "you couldn't even save their lives?"_

 _She had stood watching the scene, her limbs oddly heavy. She had to pull herself together; a lieutenant did not break down, did not present an expression of unfiltered grief to her men. She had lived through many similar tragedies, but it never got easier. Wearing an expression she used for these situations, she stepped forward._

 _"Matsumoto."_

 _She swung around, startled. "Taichou?"_

 _He had been watching her—since when? His expression was cold as usual, and yet his gaze seemed to break through her mask. It was his eyes, she thought; the sadness in them echoed her own._

 _"Go back to the compound. Take the rest of the day off."_

 _She blinked. "Uh, taichou?"_

 _He ignored her and walked to his patrol leader. "Hagakure..." Hitsugaya placed a hand on the man's shoulder._

 _The shoulders were shaking uncontrollably; Hagakure did not want to cry in front of his commander. And yet there was something about Hitsugaya's presence that always made them unable to hold back, something about the way the young boy wearing a commander's haori placed a hand on their shoulder and spoke to them with unexpected gentleness, that made them break down the way one only breaks down once or twice in a lifetime._

* * *

Matsumoto rarely cried, but sometimes she would wake up with her pillow damp. Now she felt hot liquid trickle to her ear, and knew it wasn't perspiration.

Tomorrow would be another day, and she knew that it would be filled with good things, as hard as that was to believe at the moment. Too exhausted to fight her dream, she only wished for it to end quickly.

* * *

 _She stood at the funeral. She didn't remember much of it, only the endless black—black clothes, black ties, banners, coffins._

 _Her favorite taichou always attended, and then went straight back to work._

 _"Isn't that too much?" she had asked him once. "No one would complain if you took a break every now and then, you know?"_

 _He had ignored her. Her badgering went on for a while, partly because she was concerned about him, and partly because she wanted the day off, which would be easier to accomplish if he took a break too. She was known for always slacking off, but he was an honest-to-goodness slave driver!_

 _"Taichouuuuu," she began, readying a second line of attack._

 _"Matsumoto, the world hasn't ended."_

 _"What? You don't mean you'll only stop paperwork when the world ends!?" She_ knew _she should have applied to a different Division! The third Division wasn't that bad, and so was the seventh..._

 _He sighed, slamming his pen down on the table. "It's not that I value this over my subordinate's lives." He stood up abruptly, as if aware that he had said too much._

 _"Then why?" she asked his back, as he strode to the door._

 _"...I don't know how else..." The rest of his reply was a barely audible mutter. The door slammed shut. She sat on the couch, unexpectedly feeling guilty._

* * *

How did it feel like to be responsible for men's lives? She could guess, for she was second in command, but she did not know the full extent of it.

Matsumoto wiped her brow and padded to the bathroom. A shower to rinse away the terrors. Light dabs of makeup to erase her dark circles. A fresh set of uniform and a brilliant smile in the mirror, to make her feel invincible. No matter what, her nights would not break her. She knew that in a few weeks she would be back to normal.

"Taichouuuuu!" Matsumoto called cheerfully, sliding the door open.

"You're late!" he snapped from behind his table, punctual as usual.

"Well, that's cause there was this new taiyaki stall, and I couldn't resist getting some!"

"Matsumoto, you're late because of _taiyaki_? Are you really my lieutenant? Why did I make you my lieutenant?"

"Awww, come on!" She placed a freshly made taiyaki on his table, the ends crispy and the middle filled to bursting. "It's a new flavor—watermelon!"

He didn't even look up from his paper. "I like watermelons, not watermelon flavored snacks. There is a difference."

"Yes, yes, I thought you'd say something grouchy like that, which is why—" she placed one, two, three, four more packages on his table "—I got you chocolate, red bean, custard and matcha too! Isn't that something?"

She thought she could see a vein throbbing in his forehead. He sighed, then picked up the red bean flavor. " _Okay._ Thanks, Matsumoto. You can have the rest, alright? Geez," he said while tearing off the head of the taiyaki, "this must be why I made you my lieutenant."

"What, why?" she asked, beaming.

"To fill my days with nonsense."

"Oh, come on." She pointed at him with sparkling eyes. "You like it, don't you?"

"...Do you have a taiyaki that does paperwork? Seeing as you obviously won't?"

She laughed and took a stack—the thinnest one—from his table.

People always asked her how she handled him, or whether she resented his work ethic and demanding standards. They just didn't understand. He complained, but did most of the work. He was brusque, until one saw him comforting a subordinate. He might be acerbic, but he couldn't even hide his gentle heart. Hitsugaya was her favorite taichou, and she knew that if she stayed by him, she would always be okay in the end. How could nightmares continue to plague her in the presence of this little boy with the blazing white hair and ice-blue eyes?

And if he didn't know how to cope with grief other than burying himself in paperwork, she would help him out as best she could. _Taiyaki today,_ Matsumoto thought. _Dango tomorrow! And then a date with Hinamori-chan if I can arrange it!_

* * *

 **A/N** : Drabble written with some built-up feelings and a genuine sympathy for the relationship between these two. I'm sure there must be Matsumoto/Hitsugaya romance fics out there, although I've never read any, but this isn't intended to be one.

I always have a special place in my heart for constructive criticism and kind reviewers! :)

Lotsa love,

Mel


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